


Chasing West

by suitboxers



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)
Genre: Lots of Violin Stuff, M/M, Romance, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Slow Build, Turtlecest, Violinist Raphael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8173991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitboxers/pseuds/suitboxers
Summary: “Look at me, bro. I ain't exactly the kinda guy you'd imagine spends their free time playin' the Moonlit Sinatra,” Raphael grunts, smirking briefly.
For the longest time, Raphael's played the violin in secret... until Leonardo literally walks in on him playing the Star Wars theme. Believe it or not, this is a love story.--  (Inspired by the fact that violins are awesome and imagining Raphael playing one is glorious.)





	1. A Breath of Air

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the beginning of the first fanfic I've put any amount of effort into in a long time, so I hope y'all enjoy it. This story is essentially a giant indulgence into the concept of 2k16 Raphael playing the violin 'cause, y'know, _2k16 Raphael playing the violin._
> 
> As a heads up, this is 100% going to be a Leonardo/Raphael fic, and while other characters pop in and out, it's all about our raging hothead and our fearless leader in blue at the end of the day. So, y'know, gear up for some serious tension because I'm a dick. ;D  
>   
> Enjoy~
> 
> And yes, I drew the art. I do lots of arts, actually. Go follow me on Tumblr? ;D My username's the same.

__

He flicks on the old battery-powered amp with one hand as the other gently plugs in the chord, the whole set-up looking two steps and a fall away from joining the junk yard. Careful, as not to jostle the instrument too much, Raphael wipes away any grime left from it's stay behind the old grate. He plugs the old chord into it's body as he stands, and kicks the old grate shut.

Bow between his teeth, he plucks the instrument's strings lightly, testing the overall pitch and making adjustments when necessary. The amp crackles on the higher notes. He rosins the bow, then he repositions the instrument beneath his chin. A short melody later and Raphael nods to himself, turning his back on the amp and moving the instrument into a more comfortable position.

Tapping his foot against the cement floor in a four by four beat, he raises the bow into the air and begins to play a fast paced, yet familiar, eerie tune.

Finally, he can relax.

–

“What do you mean he's not with you?” Leonardo snaps, arms folded to ward off the midnight chill, “He's always with you.”

“Do I look like Raphie's baby sitter? No, didn't think so,” Casey retorts, leaning against the window frame with an unimpressed look on his face, “If ya really wanna find him so bad, why don't ya just get Donnie to track him on his 'shell cell' or something? Aren't they supposed to be bugged?”

Leonardo narrows his eyes.

“Just sayin',” Casey continues, raising his hands in a mock surrender, “Look, I don't exactly have my Raph-dar installed yet, by why don't ya go bug April? Chances are he's with her.”

“April?” Leonardo grunts, raising a brow, “Why would he be with April?”

“Why would a teenager spend time hanging out with a hot chick? Oh gee, Leo, that's a hard one,” Casey snarks, “Now if ya don't mind, I'm gonna go back into my nice, warm and comfortable, turtle-free apartment. Good bye.”

–

Raphael hums lightly as his foot taps to the beat, his bow gliding across the strings so elegantly it may as well be dancing. He snorts to himself, glancing at the sheet music haphazardly duct taped to the wall, making sure he wasn't going off tune.

Fingers blurring against the fret board, his eyes dart between the instrument and the sheet music as the piece approaches it's crescendo. He stops humming and concentrates on the notes, producing them at a speed that even a human would find difficult. The melody builds and builds and builds, and like a wave crashing to shore, the climax hits and he _nails_ it.

The urge to whoop in joy is almost enough to make him temporarily put the instrument down, but he resists in favour of finishing the piece. Take that, four-fingered people.

–

“Whoa, whoa, rewind. What're you talking about?” April asks, furrowing her brow, “Raph never comes to visit me, at least not without you guys anyway. Isn't he always hanging out with Casey Jones?”

“Yeah, that's what I thought too, but according to Casey he should be with you,” Leonardo replies, strained.

April frowns, shifting her phone from one ear to the other, “Why're you out looking for him anyway? Did something happen?”

“It's a long story,” Leonardo replies after a beat, “Look, if you see him, tell him I need to talk to him, okay?”

“I doubt I will, but okay,” April concedes, fiddling awkwardly with her pen, “Sorry, Leo.”

“That's alright. Thanks anyway,” Leonardo replies, cutting off the call.

She fiddles with her pen for a long moment, before putting the phone aside and getting back to work.

–

Raphael growls, wiping his brow more out of habit than to remove any sweat. Fucking four-fingered people and their stupid fucking four fingers. Trying to play this piece at the right tempo is hard enough as it is.

“This ain't workin',” he grumbles under his breath, lowering the instrument and reading over the sheet music again. It's four by four beat, 120 tempo and minimum eight notes per bar weren't composed with a two-fingered turtle in mind, that's for sure.

Ugh, fuck this. He should've just gone to Casey's, day off be damned.

–

“Leo!” Donatello calls out, smiling as his brother enters the lair, “Did you find him?”

“Nope,” Leonardo growls, “He's gone AWOL, apparently. Any luck with his shell cell?”

“Nada,” Donatello replies, shaking his head, “He left it in the dojo before storming off.”

Leonardo sighs, pinching his brow, “Of course he did.”

“Have ya checked the west side tunnels, bro?” Michelangelo asks, leaning over the back of the sofa.

“Why would I check there?” Leonardo replies, frowning.

“Dude, Raphie _always_ goes west when he gets the shits,” Michelangelo retorts, scoffing, “And I don't think he goes topside either. Like, I'm pretty sure he goes down.”

Donatello rolls his eyes fondly, returning to his computer set-up.

Leonardo bites his lip. Turning back towards the exit, he folds his arms. Why on earth would Raphael go west, further into the tunnels, instead of going to the surface?

–

“Ah, fuck it. Stupid geek medley,” Raphael growls, turning his shell to the sheet music in favour of switching to an easier, more familiar piece. The old Scottish hymn resonates throughout the chamber, his fingers blurring against the fret board as his foot taps to the beat.

If he ever had to play a piece for his family, this one would be it. It's fast, fun and energetic enough to keep Michelangelo entertained, while still being old and sophisticated enough for the rest of them. Granted, he could probably play chopsticks on this thing and still sound sophisticated, but still. It's a good piece.

Not that he'll ever play it for them. The last thing he needs is another thing to be harassed about.

–

Leonardo grits his teeth as he jogs down yet another old drainage tunnel consisting of nothing more than puddles and the occasional rat. He releases a controlled sigh through his nostrils as he hits yet another dead end.

A small rat scurries across one of the supports, disappearing into the shadows. Like Raphael, the little creature becomes impossible to track.

He pinches his brow, leaning his shell against the nearest support. Why is it when it really matters Raphael's about as subtle as a dinosaur in a china shop, but as soon Leonardo needs to find him he remembers how to cover his tracks?

Groaning under his breath, he turns to head back towards the lair when he hears a soft, very soft, sound coming from one of the nearby tunnels. He frowns, retracing his footsteps until he stands outside an old barricade, the words 'Keep Out' painted in black on the wood. Approaching the barrier with caution, he lifts up the side of his bandanna to get a better read on the sound.

It's... melodic, like a song or an instrument being played.

Furrowing his brow, Leonardo takes a long moment to check the wooden barrier for any weaknesses, removing the loose planks one by one until a roughly three foot hole forms in it's centre. He hesitates, albeit briefly, before slipping through the gap and following the sound.

As the path twists and turns, goes up and down, the music eventually becomes loud enough to identify. He can't think of the song name off of the tip of his tongue, but it's a pop song. A pop song being played on a... a violin? He squints, leaping across a particularly decrepit part of the old tunnel and landing on his feet. Yeah, that's definitely a pop song being played on a violin.

Or a fiddle.

Wait, aren't they the same thing?

Closing in on the source of the music, instinct finds Leonardo slipping into the shadows as a soft baritone hum is added to the mix. He frowns, picking up the pace as the song changes to... the Star Wars theme? _Okay_ then.

He nears what looks like the final tunnel, taking the sharp turn left and plastering himself as close to the wall as his carapace allows. Eyes alert and hands fingering a small throwing star in his pocket, he peers over the tunnel's edge to see-

Whoa.

Raphael stands in the middle of the room, eyes closed and nursing an old electric violin beneath his chin. The chord connecting it to the amp looks like it has seen better days, but it's the way his fingers dance along the fretboard that brings Leonardo to a stand still, mouth dropping open in awe.

His bow glides along the strings with more grace than anyone ever thought the typically hot-headed turtle was capable of, and the sounds he's producing through the old crackling amp... wow. Just- wow.

Beautiful.

Raphael's performance comes to a screeching halt, and his eyes shoot wide open like a deer caught in the headlights. Leonardo could smack himself – what kind of ninja mumbles his thoughts aloud?

“Wha- What are you doing here?” Raphael grunts, lowering the violin and taking a cautious step back, “You ain't supposed to be here.”

“I needed to talk to you, and you weren't at Casey's so...” Leonardo replies, narrowing his eyes after a beat.

Raphael folds his arms, scowling, “What's it to you?”

“You said you were going to Casey's,” Leonardo states.

“Well _you_ said I ain't worth shit to this team beyond breakin' heads and startin' fights, so I guess we're even,” Raphael snarls, his grip tightening on the bow, “Get out, fearless. Ya ain't wanted down here.”

Leonardo grimaces, looking away.

“About that,” he says after a long moment, shifting his stance, “I wanted to apologise for what I said. It was uncouth, and uncalled for-”

“And complete bullshit,” Raphael butts in, snorting humourlessly, “Yeah, I know. It don't explain why the fuck you're here instead of, I dunno, meditatin' with sensei or somethin'.”

“I already told you, I wanted to-”

“Apologise, yeah, I got that. It don't explain why you're _here,_ ” Raphael growls, gesturing around them, “This place ain't exactly easy to find.”

“I...” Leonardo bites his lip, furrowing his brow, “That's irrelevant. I found you, that's what matters.”

“So, what? You followed me?” Raphael accuses, eyes narrowing, “Or did ya happen to stumble across a magical little birdy who gave you directions?”

Leonardo growls under his breath, “I didn't come here to argue with you Raph, I came to _apologise._ Something you should do too.”

“Yeah, sure,” Raphael snarks, arms wide, “Sorry, oh fearless leader, for steppin' on your delicate little ego. Next time I'll try not to bump that massive pole shoved up your ass.”

Leonardo's brow twitches.

“Now if ya don't mind,” Raphael growls, turning towards an old grate in the wall and kicking it open, “I've got a violin to put away,”

Leonardo hovers, watching his brother detach the old chord with care, placing his violin behind the grate and shutting off the amp. He sighs and turns to leave.

“Leo, wait!”

Frowning, Leonardo turns to see Raphael standing at the edge, eyes darting anxiously between the various cracks on the tunnel wall.

“What is it?” he asks, concerned.

“Ya can't tell anyone about this, my playin' violin,” Raphael grunts, glaring at the cement.

“Alright...” Leonardo concedes after a beat, furrowing his brow, “Though you're incredibly talented. It seems a shame to hide it.”

Raphael snorts humourlessly, jabbing a thumb at his plastron.

“Look at me, bro. I ain't exactly the kinda guy you'd imagine spends their free time playin' the Moonlit Sinatra,” he grunts, smirking briefly, “Just forget what ya saw down here, okay? You'll be doin' us all a favour.”

“But, Raph-”

“I'm serious, Leo,” Raphael growls, closing the distance, “You either forget this, or you and me are gonna have bigger problems than not bein' able to take no for an answer.”

He cocks his brow, eyes daring Leonardo to argue back, before finally stepping aside and disappearing down the tunnel. He fades into naught but a shadow in the distance.

The sight of Raphael gently swaying to the beat, body illuminated by the moonlight spilling through old exhaust fan above... something tells Leonardo it's not going to be an easy thing to forget. Violin in hand, Raphael somehow manages to overshadow his rough exterior with something far more ethereal. It's enchanting.

He's not going to be able to forget this, and to be honest? He doesn't want to.


	2. A Splash of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the power of a secret room and an old electric violin, Leonardo and Raphael grow closer.

Leonardo's back again, watching Raphael play from above like some kind of stalker. If he bothered to look up, he'd see the turtle hiding in the shadows, his large figure not quite blending in with his surroundings.

He knows he knows he's there, and he knows Raphael won't do anything about it until he makes the first move.

Raphael glances up in the direction of Leonardo's hiding place, and narrows his eyes. Stop hiding. Leonardo shifts, no response. Raphael scowls, the amp crackling as he ups the tempo, seamlessly melding the medley into an old cinematic piece he can't remember the name of.

Leonardo reclines against the tunnel wall, radiating amusement. After a long moment Raphael finally grits his teeth and looks away.

What the hell is he even waiting for, anyway? Some kind of invitation?

–

“I'm telling you that going topside right now is tantamount insanity. Didn't you hear what the weatherman said?” Leonardo shouts, blocking the exit with his body, “You're staying here, and that's final!”

“Is that an order, oh _fearless_ one?” Raphael growls, fists clenched, “'Cause between you and me, I ain't that good at takin' orders.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Leonardo snarls, folding his arms.

Raphael snorts humourlessly before shoving the arrogant leader aside, the sheer force of the act throwing him into the wall. Leonardo quickly regains his posture, stepping in front of his brother again with arms spread wide.

“The likelihood of you slipping off of a roof, or getting struck by lightening right now is-”

“Pretty low, actually,” Donatello interrupts, entering the room with a juice box in hand, “With the amount of power poles and metallic structures situated throughout the city, Raph would have to be carrying around an actual lightening rod to be at risk.”

“Not now, Donnie,” Leonardo snaps, turning his glare on the resident genius.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Raphael grunts, shoving past the walking roadblock again and taking a sharp turn west, “I'm outta here.”

“ _Raphael_!” Leonardo shouts.

Raphael scowls, “Fuck off!”

–

Raphael scowls when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Leonardo settle into his usual position overhead, not even bothering to conceal his presence as he does it. His playing comes to a screeching halt, and he lowers the violin.

“I know you're out there, Leo,” he growls, glaring right at his brother's shadow, “So either reveal yourself or piss off, 'cause I ain't the mood for this 'silent audience' shit right now.”

The silence drags on as he glares at the shadowy figure, almost long enough that a small (very small) part of Raphael begins to wonder if it really is Leonardo who's been stalking him this past month. Then he hears it, the series of small, subtle splashes as the figure retreats into the shadows.

He's about to make a biting remark about their _fearless leader_ being nothing more than an overgrown blue _chicken_ when the splashes return, coming from the east as big brother dearest finally steps into the light. Figures, he has to make some kind of dramatic entrance instead of walking into the room like a normal mutant ninja turtle. Sheesh.

“Nice of ya to finally show up, _Leo_ ,” Raphael says after a long moment, folding his arms, “And here I thought you'd _never_ come outta hiding.”

Leonardo's fingers twitch, his stance shifts.

He says nothing.

Raphael's scowl deepens.

“Seriously, bro? Ya spy on me for a month and all ya got to say is _nothing_?” Raphael says, rolling his eyes, “I ain't goin' topside, you can go home now.”

Silence.

Raphael growls.

“What the hell are ya just standin' around for?” he snaps, “Either gimme an explanation as to why you've been creepin' around here for ages or just fuck off. It ain't that hard to understand.”

“...Opera,” Leonardo replies after a long moment, eyes glued to the damp cement floor, “That piece you were playing. It's from the Phantom of the Opera.”

“What?”

“It's a beautiful piece,” he continues, shifting his stance and folding his arms almost... vulnerably, “You're a beautiful player- I mean, you play beautifully. On the violin. You're a talented violinist, Raphael. I...” he licks his lips, furrowing his brow, “I enjoy listening to you play, if that makes any sense.”

…

“Yeah, okay, ya lost me after 'beautiful player',” Raphael says after a long moment, “Lemme get this straight, you're, uh, stalkin' me... 'cause you like listening to me play? That's it?”

Leonardo shifts again, scratching his cheek, “I wouldn't call it stalking, but yes. That's it. I find your playing... relaxing.”

Raphael frowns, licking his lips briefly and shifting his own stance, eyes glued to the steady stream of water trickling down the chamber wall. Well then. What's he say to that?

“Alright,” he says after a long moment, absent-mindedly fiddling with the bow, “So, uh... I guess ya like Phantom of the Opera then.”

“It's alright,” Leonardo replies, cautiously making eye contact, “I prefer Les Miserables though, if we're talking about musicals. It has a stronger story line.”

Raphael nods, resting the violin back beneath his chin, “Any favourites?”

“Uh,” Leonardo says, shifting again, “Which ones do you know?”

“Most of them,” he replies, tapping his fingers noiselessly against the strings, “What can I say? I liked the movie.”

Leonardo's lips twitch into a small smile.

“It is a good movie,” he concedes, pausing to shift his stance again, “Do you know... uh, I can't remember what it's called, but the song Ebony sings in the rain?”

Raphael brings his bow up to the instrument and plays a few bars, “This one?”

Leonardo's face brightens, “Yeah, that one.”

Shifting the violin into a more comfortable position, he eyes his brother as he rests his bow against the strings. He's about to being playing when he remembers-

“Oh yeah, uh, you can sit down or whatever. I don't mind,”

The leader hesitates for a long moment, eyes darting between his brother and the small dry spot near the old grate, before he finally squares his shoulders and sits down. Raphael eyes him with amusement.

He's never seen Leonardo so awkward before. It's kinda funny.

“Feel free to gimme any suggestions while I'm playin', bro,” Raphael says once Leonardo's made himself comfortable, “Though I swear to god, ya make me play the same thing more than two times in a row and I'm tellin' Mikey about ya dark chocolate stash. Yeah, that's right, you ain't the only one who knows stuff.”

He can't tell who starts laughing first, but the refreshing feeling of actually having a _laugh_ with his brother instead of trying to drive his fist into his face is... actually kinda nice.

–

And just like that, everything changed.

Leonardo stopped watching from the shadows and Raphael stopped caring that he was being watched. In fact, the younger turtle didn't even mind that _his_ private space, something he'd been coveting for years, had now become _their_ private space. Somehow it just worked when Leonardo had rocked up one day with his spare meditation kit in hand and never took it home.

Eventually one visit a week turned into 'after every time they'd fight', and by the time Spring arrived Raphael had even started going as far as setting up his brother's meditation equipment in advance, well, when their fights were _particularly_ stupid at least. Like that one time he blew up because Leonardo was training too hard. Oh man, that was _not_ one of his proudest moments.

Speaking of stupid fights...

–

“What do ya mean 'ya ate the rest of my cereal'?!” Raphael roars, pegging the empty Cheerio box at Michelangelo's head, “That was my last box!”

Michelangelo dodges it, barely.

“I said I was sorry, dude,” he shouts back, “What more do you want-? Eek!”

Leonardo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as Raphael launches himself at their youngest sibling, chasing him around the lair like a lunatic.

_Cereal_. They're fighting about _cereal_.

What next?

“Why you little-!”

“ _Enough_ ,” Leonardo orders, unfolding his legs and standing, arms crossed, “Mikey, you should know better than to mess with Raph's stuff, and Raph – for god's sake, it's only _cereal_.”

“It's only cereal? _It's only cereal_?” Raphael snarls, smacking Michelangelo upside the head before releasing him from the headlock, and giving Leonardo his full attention, “That little asshole ate the rest of the good stuff! All we've got left is O'Neil's fuckin' rabbit food. I ain't eatin' that shit.”

Leonardo grimaces; he wouldn't eat it either, “None the less, Raph, it's a stupid thing to get mad about.”

“Yeah, Raph,” Michelangelo interjects, sticking out his tongue from behind the sofa, “Stupid head.”

“Shut up!” Raphael roars, emerald eyes alight, “Who're you callin' stupid, Leo?”

“ _No one_ , I just said that getting mad over _cereal_ is-”

“Fuckin' stupid, yeah, I heard ya the first time,” he growls, fists tightly balled by his sides, “I ain't stupid.”

Leonardo breathes a long, steady sigh through his nostrils, “I never meant to imply that you were.”

“I did-”

“ _Michelangelo_ ,” Leonardo snaps, turning his glare on the youngest in the room, “Enough.”

Letting out a shriek, Michelangelo darts behind Donatello at his computer station, hiding behind his carapace. The resident genius doesn't even bother to look up, too focused on... whatever he's doing over there.

“Look Raph,” Leonardo says after a long moment, turning back to the fuming hothead with what he hopes is a placating expression, “Why don't you give April a call and ask her to pick up another box on her way down tomorrow? Problem solved,”

“Bullshit,” Raphael snaps, stepping into his brother's personal space with a deep frown, “Look, I ain't mad about the cereal- okay, I am, but what I'm really pissed about is _Mikey_ always gettin' into my shit and you always gettin' into my business. Back off, Leo, this ain't your fight.”

While part of the leader wants to step back, pride demands he stay put, “As the leader of this family, it's my responsibility to make sure you don't end up injuring our little brother over an empty box of _cereal_.”

“If ya haven't noticed, oh _wise and fearless leader_ , I ain't exactly focused on him any more,” he growls, stepping even closer and lowering his voice, “I'm headin' west – _don't_ follow me for at least an hour or I might end up peggin' my violin at ya head. Capiche?”

Leonardo swallows, eyes darting between Raphael's wild fire eyes and the oddly enticing scar on his upper lip. He does this several times, nodding stiffly. Raphael's tongue darts out, wetting his lips, the look in his eyes almost... predatory. He hovers for a few moments too long, watching him. Waiting for something.

Then Raphael shoves him aside like in every other fight they've had and storms out of the lair. Leonardo watches with baited breath, eyes trailing the larger turtle as he takes a sharp turn left and disappears into the west side tunnel.

He licks his lips again, throat suddenly parched.

What was that?

–

“I'm heading out,” Leonardo announces, taking off in the same direction as Raphael had not even half an hour ago. Honestly, they're not even _trying_ to be subtle any more.

Michelangelo groans, banging his head against Donatello's desk.

“You ever wonder where they go, dude?” he asks after a long moment, eyeing the genius as he fiddles with some kind of computer circuit board... thing-a-ma-gig.

“No,” Donatello replies, putting the tweezers aside to pick up the zappy-thing.

“Seriously?” Michelangelo says, gaping, “But, like, they're always running off these days, man. They're practically living in the sewers!”

Donatello pauses for a long moment, before lowering his zappy tool and giving the younger turtle an incredulous look. Michelangelo blinks.

“What?”

“...Nevermind,” Donatello replies after a beat, staring at Michelangelo for another long moment and getting back to work, “I'm sure they have their reasons – besides, the more they're out of the lair, the less I have to worry about a rogue sai embedding itself into my computer tower. _Again,_ ” biting his lower lip, he switches the zoom on his tech-goggles and starts zapping at the upper right corner of the board, “As far as I see it, it's a win-win, really.”

“True,” Michelangelo replies, snorting, “What do ya think they're doing, though?”

“Fighting, probably,” Donatello drones, switching back to the tweezers, “What else do they do?”

–

Leonardo smiles as the soft melody of Raphael's violin switches to an unfamiliar tune, something he's learned to recognise as his brother simply going off script and making it up as he goes. He should make a mental note to encourage Raphael to write down his compositions one day, they're really good.

He steps down into the chamber and smiles at the sight of his meditation corner already set up, candles and all. Leonardo glances at his brother playing the violin, staring pointedly at the opposing wall. His smile widens.

Apology accepted.

Stepping over the candles, he sits on the mat and takes a long moment to simply bask in the sight of his younger brother at work. Eyes closed, and posture relaxing beneath the melody he's playing, Raphael is a sight for sore eyes.

Beautiful.

“Thank you,” Leonardo says after a long moment, smiling softly.

Startled, Raphael's brows draw in confusion. His eyes dart from the meditation set-up to his brother a few times, before a look of comprehension finally dawns on his face and he smirks.

“Ah, it was nothin',” he says with a small shrug, careful not to jostle the violin in the process. He pauses for a long moment, before continuing, “Sorry 'bout earlier, by the way. Y'know, with the cereal.” he purses his lips, “I've had some time to think about it and, yeah, you're right,” he snorts, “It was a pretty dumb thing to lose my shit about.”

Leonardo blinks in surprise, lips parting slightly, “Uh, apology accepted,” he replies, “Though you weren't entirely in the wrong. Mike _does_ have a tenancy to get under people's shells after all.”

“Just say it, Leo – he's annoying,” Raphael laughs, his entire posture brightening, “So, we're good?”

Leonardo chuckles fondly, closing his eyes and relaxing into the meditative position, “Yeah, we're good.”

Smiling, Raphael transitions his idle bowing into a classical piece, and just like that everything is perfect.

–

Leonardo blows out the final candle, brows furrowed as he tries to figure out an appropriate way to word his request _without_ getting instantly shut down. He starts picking up the candles, and turns to his brother.

“Hey Raph?”

“Yeah?” Raphael replies, glancing up from his position beside the old grate while gently pushing the amp inside, “What's up?”

He pauses for a beat, biting his bottom lip. How to put this...?

“I was wondering... actually, you know what? Never mind,” he says after a long moment, handing his brother the candles to put away and turning back to the mat, “It's stupid.”

Raphael snorts quietly, “I doubt it, Leo – seriously, what's up? I won't judge.”

Leonardo rolls his eyes fondly, rolling up the mat as Raphael audibly rolls up the old chord behind him, “Promise?”

“Now I _know_ something's wrong,” Raphael says, amusement lacing his tone, “And yeah, I _promise_. Now quit holdin' out on me.”

The leader takes a moment to compose himself, hands gripping the rolled up mat as he steels himself for whatever may come. Worst case scenario, they'll just forget this ever happened, and best case scenario, well...

“Okay, okay. Could you, perhaps – only if you have the time, _and_ are willing – consider... teaching me? How to play the violin, that is.”

He glances back at Raphael to see his brows go up and his lips part in shock.

Leonardo sighs, “It was only a suggestion. Like I said, never-”

“Why?”

Leonardo blinks.

“What?”

“ _Why_?” Raphael repeats, taking his brother's meditation mat and slipping it in with the rest of their equipment, “No offence, but ya don't exactly seem the type to take violin lessons. Especially from me of all turtles.”

Leonardo shrugs, shoulders tense, “You're talented, and I'm curious.”

Narrowing his eyes, Raphael gently places his violin on top of his mat before closing the grate and standing up. The hothead watches him for a long moment, eyes darting from his stiff shoulders, to his balled fists and back up to his expression. He stands, furrows his brow and licks his lips.

Raphael follows the movement, licking his own lips.

“Alright,” he replies after a long moment, shifting his stance, “ _But,_ on one condition.”

Leonardo narrows his eyes and folds his arms.

Raphael smirks, taking a small step into his brother's personal space, and cocks his brow.

“You have to call me Master at least once per lesson,” he continues, smirk widening with every word.

Leonardo snorts before he can help himself, narrowing his eyes in a thinly veiled attempt to hide the amusement, “What kind of condition is _that_ , 'Master' Raphie?” he smirks, “If I didn't know any better, I'd call it a kink.”

Raphael visibly shivers, stepping closer, “What would _you_ know about kinks, fearless?”

“You'd be surprised,” Leonardo replies, cocking his brow, “I know more than you think.”

Raphael's mouth parts, before his tongue darts out to taste his lips briefly. Leonardo's eyes can't help but follow the movement, and when his brother does it again – slowly, deliberately...

“Really?” Raphael asks, voice dropping an octave, inching closer, “Who would've thought?”

“Not you apparently,” Leonardo replies, breath mingling with the hothead's for a long, drawn out moment... before he steps back, and takes the moment with him, “You've got yourself a deal, Raph. We'll meet here an hour after patrol.”

Raphael takes a few beats longer than usual to compose himself, before finally nodding and joining Leonardo by the exit. The leader licks his lips again, turning away from the hothead before he... does _something_.

Raphael snorts, playfully jabbing Leonardo in the side, “I thought I was the Master now,”

Leonardo chuckles.

“Not until tomorrow, you're not,” he replies, gesturing towards the exit with a smirk, “Now, how about last one home teams up with Mikey?”

Raphael barks out a laugh, slinging his arm around the leader's shell and giving him a playful punch in the shoulder, “You're on, fearless.”

Leonardo rolls his eyes, removes his brother's arm and takes off into the tunnels.

“Cheater!”

“All's fair in love and avoiding Mikey, Raph – everyone knows that!”

“ _Ugh_ , get back here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyehehe, I love writing romantic tension. It's so fun to have them dancing around each other without even realising that they're doing it.
> 
> You will mack eventually, my bubbies. Just you wait.


	3. A Shift of Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leonardo gets schooled in how to play a violin, and they skip patrol for a quality D&M.

“Alright, ya gotta hold it like this- no, higher. _Higher_. Put the chin rest under ya chin, not your armpit,” Raphael growls, folding his arms with a scowl, “Seriously Leo, are ya even trying?”

Leonardo grimaces, lowering the instrument, “Excuse me for never having held a violin before, _Master Raphie_.”

Raphie? _Really_? Raphael pinches the space between his brows and grits his teeth, shifting his stance. On one hand he could toss Mr Sarcastic out on his ass and be rid of this whole tutoring bullshit, but on the other hand if Splinter Jr storms off in some kind of frustrated hissy fit, he might never come back.

Ugh.

“Alright, give it here,” he grunts, manoeuvring behind his brother's shell and sticking out his palm, “Time to let the master show ya how it's done.”

He can practically feel Leonardo roll his eyes as he hands him the instrument, offering him the bow as well. Raphael ignores it, stepping in closer as his plastron clacks against Leonardo's carapace, and correctly positions the violin beneath his chin.

Leonardo stiffens, fingers twitching, but doesn't push him away. The larger turtle smirks and guides him into the standard holding position.

“Ya gotta hold it like this, body parallel to the floor,” Raphael explains, “Otherwise ya can't see the fingerboard. Unlike a guitar there ain't no frets, so you've gotta be aware of where ya fingers go at all times,” he rests one hand against his brother's shell, and presses the third string on the fingerboard with the other, “Take this for example. Right here's B, but if ya slide ya finger up just a little bit closer, bam, now it's a C. Got it?”

Leonardo nods, mirroring the movement a couple of times.

Raphael absent-mindedly rubs his thumb against his carapace and gestures towards the violin, “Hold it higher if ya want, but only pros can hold it low 'cause we already know what goes where. Think of it like fightin' blind, only I'm you and you're Mikey.”

Leonardo snorts, lowering the instrument to give Raphael an amused look.

“Anything else, _sensei_?” He asks, sapphire eyes twinkling.

Raphael swallows, throat suddenly dry.

“Uh, nah, that's it. Just don't forget to watch what you're doin'.”

–

Most of the time the tutoring sessions went well. Raphael wouldn't blow a gasket every five minutes, Leonardo would actually manage to carry half of a tune and when they got bored, they'd just set up the meditation mat and bitch about stuff.

All things considered, it was a pretty sweet arrangement. Most of the time.

–

“I give up,” Leonardo snaps, barely refraining from throwing the violin at his brother after failing to play a simple _arpeggio,_ again, “I can't do this, I give up.”

“You're kidding me,” Raphael snorts, raising a brow.

“No, I'm not,” he replies, grip tightening on the violin's neck, “I don't know how you do it, but this instrument was clearly built for a person with four fingers and if you haven't noticed, I only have two. I. Give. Up.”

“You can't seriously give up because of that,”

“I can, and I will,” Leonardo growls, passing his brother the instrument with as much care as he can, “I shouldn't be wasting my time trying to play a _violin_ of all things. I should be meditating, or training, or just- doing _something_ productive.”

“So what, you're sayin' this ain't productive?” Raphael growls, eyes narrowing, “You're the one who asked _me_ for the violin lessons, fearless, not the other way around. The only one wastin' their time here is me.”

Leonardo scowls, whipping the bow through the air like a blade, “If I remember correctly, _you're_ the one who agreed. If training me is such a waste of time, why did you sign up for it in the first place?”

“I never fuckin' said that,”

“You just did!”

“Don't pin this on me, you're the one who called playin' the violin a waste of time!” Raphael snaps, placing the violin on top of the amp with one hand and jabbing Leonardo in the chest with the other.

“I said _me_ playing the violin was a waste of time. Don't twist my words,” Leonardo snaps back, slapping his brother's hand away, “I'm the leader, _our_ leader – I need to focus on the bigger picture. How is playing a freakin' arpeggio going to help us against the Shredder? Or Kraang? I shouldn't be messing around like this!”

“You're just pissed ya can't play a god-damned preschool song!”

“Maybe I am!” Leonardo shouts, whipping the bow through the air again, “Maybe it's frustrating!”

“Would ya stop swinging the bow around like that? I ain't exactly got a replacement!” Raphael snaps, yanking the bow out of Leonardo's hands and whipping it through the air himself.

“Oh please, it's just a stupid instrument! Who cares?” Leonardo snarls, fist curled and stance defensive.

Raphael scowls, his thick muscles practically vibrating with anger as he twists to face the wall, holding the bow in a death grip.

“In that case, oh so wise and fearless leader,” he growls, hunching slightly, “Get out.”

“Raph,”

“Get out!” Raphael roars, spinning on his heel, bow raised to strike, “Go back to kissin' Splinters ass, like ya always do.”

“ _Raph,_ ”

“I swear to god, Leo, if ya don't high tail it in the next fifteen seconds I'm gonna hurl this thing at ya head so hard it'll come out the other side,” he growls, emerald eyes burning, “Even Donnie won't be able to fix ya.”

Leonardo stands still, silent for a long moment as he stares his brother down, meeting that silent challenge with his own... before sighing deeply and turning to leave. Some storms are best waited out at home.

“Don't stay out too late,” he orders, jumping into the exit tunnel with a scowl.

Raphael snarls, “Don't tempt me.”

–

Yet, even after their worst arguments, the routine never really changed.

They'd come home after patrol, Raphael would head west to 'burn off the excess energy', Leonardo would brief Master Splinter and up to an hour later he'd take off too. They'd do the violin lessons until one, or both, of them got frustrated and then Leonardo would go back to listening to Raphael play while pretending to meditate.

Not that he even bothers pretending any more. Raphael likes the attention.

–

“Yo Leo,” Raphael calls out from the lair's entrance, balancing a sai on his fingertip, “I'm headin' west – grab a couple sandwiches from the fridge if you're comin' with.”

“Since when does 'heading west' translate into a picnic?” Leonardo replies, closing his book and making his way towards the kitchen, “Last time I checked it was a training run,”

“Since I'm hungry and I don't wanna wait around 'til Splinter forgets today's our day off,” Raphael retorts, leaning against the wall, “C'mon, bro, we ain't got all day!”

“ _Pushy_ ,” Leonardo grumbles, slipping into the kitchen and out of sight.

Michelangelo groans, watching his brothers stop by the door to share some kind of inside joke or something, before taking off into the west-side tunnels. Training run his _shell_ – they're probably just going somewhere to bitch about everyone and admire each other's biceps.

Ugh.

Leaping over the couch, Michelangelo makes his way up to Donatello's room and lets himself in. Shock of the century, the genius is lying on his bed surrounded by nerd books and reading something about... Forensic Science? Huh.

He plonks himself on the edge of the mattress and scoots back until his shell hits the wall. Settling in for the long haul, he picks up a random book and starts thumbing at the cover. The Psychology of a Serial Killer. Michelangelo raises an eyebrow. _Okay_ then.

“What is it, Mikey?” Donatello asks, turning the page and jotting something down into the notebook beside him, “If you can't tell, I'm busy.”

Michelangelo snorts, tossing the book aside, “Leo and Raph went west again and now I'm bored.”

“Oh, good,” Donatello replies, going over his notes and turning back to the book, “That means no patrol tonight.”

“ _Good_?” Michelangelo whines, huffing, “But that means utter _boredom_ tonight, dude. Save me!”

“Save yourself,” Donatello snorts, nodding towards his book, “I'll be fine.”

“Lame,”

“Mm, you've said,” he chuckles, shooting Michelangelo an amused look, “Why don't you invite April and Casey over for dinner? You can finally do that movie night you've been whining about.”

Michelangelo gasps, face lighting up like a Christmas tree, “What about Raph and Leo?”

“What about them? It's their fault if they miss out,” Donatello replies, smiling, “Just don't forget to ask Master Splinter first, okay?”

“Sir, yes sir,” Michelangelo says, grinning as he leaps to his feet and bolts out the door, “It's time to woo my future girlfriend, yo!”

–

Raphael's applause echoes throughout the chamber, rebounding against itself to sound like a small crowd. Leonardo rolls his eyes and bites his bottom lip. Embarrassing.

“You can stop now,” he says, unable to stop his lips twitching upwards, “It was just a simple scale, nothing to get excited about.”

Raphael snorts, grinning as he swings an arm around his brother's shoulders, “You kidding? That shit took me over a year to learn and you nailed it in a couple o' months. That's grounds for an applause if ya ask me – I'm impressed.”

Leonardo's face heats up a few degrees.

“What can I say? I have a good teacher,” he replies, eyes twinkling, “ _Master_ Raphael.”

Raphael all but shivers, rubbing the back of Leonardo's shell absent-mindedly, “Nah, you're just a perfectionist.”

He steps away from Leonardo to adjust his bandanna.

“At this rate you'll be playin' circles around me before ya hit twenty-one,” Raphael continues, patting Leonardo's shoulder, “And to think, ya wanted to quit before ya even started.”

Allowing himself to lean into the touch, Leonardo shoots his brother an unimpressed look and hands him the violin.

“That was _one_ time, and though I disagree, I appreciate the sentiment,” he replies, handing over the bow, “Now play me that medley you were practising last week. I'm taking a break.”

Raphael snorts, resting the instrument beneath his chin with one hand and raising the bow with the other, “ _Bossy_.”

–

“Hey, Leo?” Raphael calls out as they approach the tunnel connecting to the lair.

Leonardo quirks his brow, shooting him an amused look, “Hm?”

“Think I can parter with ya on our next patrol?” Raphael asks with a light smirk, bumping shoulders with his brother, “I'm sick of bein' stuck with Mikey and the walking encyclopaedia.”

Leonardo snorts, bumping Raphael back.

“Sure, only if you take Mikey the time after. I can't be seen favouring anyone, after all,” Leonardo replies, smiling.

Raphael rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand through the air, “Yeah, yeah, oh fearless leader.”

“Unless you want to be paired with Mikey tomorrow...?” Leonardo teases, eyes twinkling.

Raphael groans, “You are one merciless turtle, ya know that?”

“I've heard.”

–

Raphael shivers as another gust of wind smacks him right in the chest, reaching past the confines of his shell and setting his core on deep freeze. The urge to start chattering his teeth like some kind of pansy is almost impossible to resist.

Almost.

“Alright, Raph and I will take the west side. Don and Mikey, you'll take the east,” Leonardo states, mask tails flapping around in the wind, “If you don't see anything by 2am, just radio in and head back to the lair.”

Michelangelo snorts humourlessly, folding his arms, “Of course _you_ guys get to go west, you _always_ go west. What even _is_ west anyway?”

“ _Mikey_ ,” Donatello sighs.

“That way,” Raphael snarks, jabbing his thumb to his right.

“Ha ha,” Michelangelo grumbles, scuffing his foot against the ground, “You're a real comedy king, ya know that?”

Raphael rolls his eyes.

Leonardo sighs, “In that case, Raph and I will go east.”

“Fine, but don't you think for one second that I don't know you're hiding something,” Michelangelo says, motioning back and forth between them with the 'I'm watching you' gesture, “I'm gonna find out what's so great about heading west bros, Detective Mikey's on the job.”

Raphael smacks him over the back of the head, “ _Detective Mikey_ needs a fuckin' hobby,” he grunts, standing on the roof's ledge, “And we ain't hiding nothin', so fuck off.”

Donatello shakes his head and Michelangelo protests, but Raphael tunes them out in favour of shooting Leonardo one hell of a smirk. Leonardo shifts and folds his arms, raising his brow.

Raphael snorts.

“I'm not finished,” Leonardo says, taking a step towards Raphael.

“Yeah, you are,” Raphael taunts, grinning.

There's a short pause before Leonardo launches himself at his brother, missing his bicep by a hair's breadth. Raphael lands on the adjacent roof with ease, laughing.

“ _Raphael_!”

“Catch me if ya can, fearless!”

–

Two sets of feet hit the docks as they race to the peer, Raphael managing to sit himself down only moments before Leonardo. Using his palms as supports, he shifts into a comfortable position and draws in a deep breath of oceanic air.

Finally, he can feel his fingertips again.

“I win,” he declares after a long moment, smirking.

Leonardo rolls his eyes.

“Technically we reached the peer at the same time,” he replies, amused, “But I guess I can let you take the glory. It's not like I need it.”

Raphael narrows his eyes, and elbows him in the side. Leonardo frowns, letting out a pained grunt and returning the gesture. Raphael snort and returns to a comfortable position.

“Smug bastard,” he grunts, watching his brother's reflection in the water. He looks reluctantly amused.

“Hothead,” Leonardo replies, lacking any heat.

Raphael rolls his eyes, “ _Dork_ nardo.”

Leonardo laughs.

“ _Rough_ ael,” he retorts, smirking.

Raphael pauses for a long moment, trying his damnedest to keep his expression sour, before finally caving in and barking out a short laugh. He looks up at his brother, eyes half lidded.

“What can I say? It's all a part of my charm.”

Leonardo stares at him for a beat before snorting and returning his gaze to the water.

Raphael smiles.

A comfortable silence settles between them.

Alternating between the occasional shiver, the slight kicking of his brother's feet above the water and staring at the subtle waves below, he can't help but eye the almost ethereal shine the moonlight adds to Leonardo's skin, or the way his mask kicks around in wind. It's borderline cinematic. It's breathtaking.

If Raphael ever took up photography, his brother would be the perfect subject.

Leonardo's beautiful, in the most dangerous way. Like a snake. He's graceful, almost elegant in the way he carries himself through a kata, but when the time comes to strike he'll do so with the deadliest precision. His katana may as well be dipped in poison from the damage he can cause with a single strike.

“What made you start playing the violin?” Leonardo asks out of the blue, briefly glancing at his brother and returning his gaze to the water.

Raphael barely refrains from jolting off of the peer.

“Uh, what?”

“The violin,” Leonardo repeats, looking up again with an amused twinkle in his eye, “You aren't the type to get that good at something without a reason.”

Raphael opens his mouth to say... something, but he closes it again and turns back towards the water. He bites his lip and shifts slightly.

“It's a long story,” he says after a beat, eyeing the water, “Heck, you'll probably make fun of me.”

“Tell it anyway,” Leonardo replies, resting his hand on Raphael's shoulder, “We've got time.”

Raphael glances at his brother, narrowing his eyes slightly, “What happened to patrollin'? It ain't like ya to skip out.”

“Would you rather patrol?”

“Hey, I never said that, I was just pointin' it out.”

“Then stop avoiding the question,” Leonardo states, pursing his lips, “I won't make fun of you.”

Raphael snorts, turning his gaze to the sky. Moderately cloudy with a chance of heart to heart – who would've thought?

“Alright,” he says after a long moment, glancing at the leader out of the corner of his eye, “But you asked for it,” he pauses again, biting his lip, “You remember that time we had that huge fight when we were kids? The one that made me run away for a week.”

“Of course,” Leonardo replies, frowning, “You nearly gave me- Master Splinter a heart attack. We all thought something seriously bad happened to you. I still do.”

Raphael sighs, long and deep, and turns back to his brother.

“Nothin' bad happened, relax,” he says, cocking his brow, “You wanna hear the whole story or not?”

Leonardo purses his lips, shooting him an unimpressed look, but nods none the less.

Rolling his eyes, Raphael continues.

“While you guys were havin' an aneurysm or something, I, uh- I got lost,” he admits, shrugging self-consciously, “I was walkin' those tunnels for hours before I heard it, the violin, and since my choices were stuck at keep walkin' around aimlessly or check it out, I decided to check it out,” he snorts to himself, “It pretty much went the way you'd think it would. I followed the sound to the violin room, and bam, right in the middle of a bunch of old blankets was this dude playin' the electric violin,” he smirks, “Ya should'a seen the look on his face when he saw me, it was priceless.”

Leonardo's frown deepens, and he folds his arms.

“Hey, before you start lecturin' me for the past, remember that I was ten,” Raphael says, narrowing his eyes, “You weren't exactly the most level-headed turtle back then either, Mr 'King of the Trash'. Yeah, that's right, I still remember.”

Leonardo groans, looking away, “It's a miracle we didn't get caught.”

“Amen to that,” Raphael laughs, before turning his attention to the clouds, “Anyway, the Professor – that's what he liked to be called – ended up takin' care of me for the week, and even helped me find my way home. The guy was like Donnie with no filter, if ya know what I mean, but he played a lot of violin so...”

Leonardo smiles slightly, nudging Raphael with his shoulder, “He taught you how to play?”

“Yeah,” Raphael says, returning to gesture, “Spent the whole next year sneakin' off into the sewers to meet him for my violin lessons. He even catered them to my havin' two fingers and everything,” he smiles wistfully, staring at the waves, “He was a good guy. You would'a liked him.”

Leonardo's hand lands on his own and squeezes lightly. Raphael smiles slightly and returns the gesture.

“What... happened to him?” Leonardo asks after a long moment, brows furrowed in concern.

“Same thing that happens to all old guys in the end, bro. He moved on,” he replies, a pained smile on his face as he leans against his brother's side, “Whelp, ya know how the rest of the story goes. After that, whenever I got bored, pissed or whatever, I'd head west and just... practise, I guess. Eventually I got good at it. Keep at it and you'll get good at it too.”

Leonardo smiles, rubbing his thumb over the back of Raphael's hand, “I'm aware how skill building works, Raph.”

Raphael swallows, smiling at the twinkle in his brother's eye. He licks his lips.

“You, uh, don't think it's stupid? That a tough guy like me spends his free time playin' the fiddle?” He asks after a short moment, eyes darting across his brother's expression from his gaze to his lips.

Leonardo's smile softens, and he leans a fraction closer, “Not even remotely. I think it's endearing.”

Raphael snorts lightly, licking his lips and tangling their fingers together.

“Endearing, huh?” He asks, watching as his brother bites his lip, teeth dragging along it's flesh and releasing it. He gulps, gravitating closer and bites his own lip – an almost sick thrill shooting through his chest as Leonardo's gaze locks onto the movement.

He repeats the action, teeth slipping over his lip once more as he watches his brother, dragging them back in almost slow motion. Leonardo shivers, swallows, and licks his lips. His fingers twitch, gripping tighter to Raphael's as their breathes intermingle, their beaks bump and their eyelids drop.

Raphael can practically feel Leonardo's tongue as it darts between his lips, the almost non-existent brush against his own. He swallows, moving closer until their lips begin to brush. Leonardo's tongue darts out, Raphael fights the temptation to chase it with his own...

“Leo, Raph!” Donatello's voice explodes from the radio, the sound simultaneously throwing Raphael to the edge of the peer and Leonardo onto his shell, “There's a robbery going down on Eastman and Laird, we could use the back-up. Mikey's gone and thrown himself into the fray, so I'm gonna join him before he gets his shell waxed. Over and out.”

Leonardo's the first to spring to his feet, jumping at least fifteen feet away from the hothead as he stands up. Raphael barely manages to restrain a growl, his hand twitching over the radio, two seconds away from tearing the thing off and feeding it to the fishes. Could Donatello have worse timing? He was just about to kiss his-

Raphael freezes, turning to face Leonardo as his anger gives way to pure unadulterated shock. He'd seriously been about to kiss his brother. On the lips. Like a lover. He'd actually been about to kiss his big brother and he- he wanted to, and he still fucking wants to. Holy shit, he- he actually has a _thing_ for his own big brother. That's- that's messed up.

“You heard Donnie,” Leonardo states, snapping Raphael out of his thoughts with an expression colder than ice, “Let's go.”

Leaving no room for an argument, Leonardo takes off before Raphael has the chance to say something, _anything,_ to rectify the situation. He shivers as another gust of wind shakes him to the core, the gravity of the situation making it feel that much colder.

His own _brother_... Jesus fucking Christ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go guys ;D And if you're curious, the 'Professor' is based on the Professor from TMNT 2k3 - y'know, the hobo with a thousand theories? Yeah, that guy. ;D


	4. A Touch of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where everything goes to shit because Leonardo and Raphael are stubborn mules.

“Ow, ow, _ow_ ,” Michelangelo whines, limping into the lair with Leonardo acting as his support, “My ankle's _killing_ me, dudes. _Ow_! Why's it always gotta be me breaking my legs? Why can't Raph break his legs? Or Leo-? _Ow_!”

“Quit complaining, numb-nuts. It's just a sprain,” Raphael says, smacking him over the back of the head and heading towards the kitchen.

“Asshole!”

Donatello sighs, shaking his head, and directs his brothers towards the sofa.

“Raph, could you grab me the first aid kit? It's under the sink,” Donatello calls out, taking Michelangelo's foot into his lap and beginning to inspect his ankle. Raphael re-emerges from the kitchen with a soda in one hand and the first aid kit in the other.

“Two steps ahead of ya, braniac,” Raphael replies, a twinkle in his eye as he frisbees the kit at Michelangelo's head. Leonardo intercepts it with an unimpressed look, and passes it to his younger brother.

Donatello thanks him and gets to work.

Nodding, Leonardo steps away from the couch and heads up towards his room, avoiding eye contact with Raphael on his ascent. He leaps over the old railing and dismounts his katana, ignoring the heavier footfall behind him as he pulls out his blade maintenance kit from the bottom drawer and throws it onto the bed.

“Any room for me in that pity party, or do I gotta procure an invite?” Raphael says, making himself comfortable against the railing.

Leonardo scowls, but otherwise says nothing.

Raphael snorts.

“You heard Dr. Donnie, bro, he's _fine_ ,” Raphael continues, slurping his drink, “It ain't the first time he's fucked his ankle by tripping over himself, and it won't be the last. Worst case scenario, he's benched for a week. No big deal.”

Leonardo's eye twitches. He draws his katana from their sheaths, and inspects the blades for any damagees. Nothing more than a few nicks here or there, but better safe than sorry. He opens his maintenance kit and removes his sharpener.

“ _Okay_ then,” Raphael says after a long moment, slurping his drink again, “Whelp, I'm headin' west to get some practice in. You comin'?”

Fuck it.

“How the hell can you be so calm?” Leonardo snaps, spinning on his heel with eyes ablaze.

Raphael sips his drink and raises his brow, “...It's just a sprain?”

“That's not what I'm talking about and you know it,” Leonardo growls, glancing at their brothers on the couch – one injured and one not, “Then again, if we hadn't been so _distracted,_ it could have been prevented.”

Raphael scowls, finishing off his drink and crushing the empty can against his chest, “I ain't the only one who voted for a break, Leo. Don't lay it on me.”

“I'm not,” Leonardo snaps, folding his arms, “If you didn't notice, I used the term ' _we_ '.”

“Yeah, sure, ya may have said _we_ but we both know ya meant _me_ ,” Raphael growls, stepping away from the railing and crossing his own arms, “If ya got a problem with me, _fearless_ , then say it.”

“Don't call me that,” Leonardo snaps.

Raphael steps closer, his larger frame to making up for the lack of height advantage. Leonardo stiffens, but stays put.

“You're in this just as deep as I am, _bro_ , so don't go playin' the victim, 'cause ya _ain't_.”

“I'm not playing anything, _bro_ ,” Leonardo hisses, eyes narrow, “ _We_ screwed up, and Mikey suffered for it. That's a fact,” his scowl deepens, “I think it's high time we rethought our _priorities_ around here _little brother_ , because between you and me, they're _messed up._ ”

“Just fuckin' say it,” Raphael growls, stepping closer, “You're scared.”

“Maybe my heading west isn't such a good idea any more,” Leonardo states, fingers twitching.

“Maybe you're an idiot,” Raphael mocks, closing the distance between their plastrons with a sharp click, “You ain't some innocent bystander on this one, Leo, and you know it.”

Leonardo shivers as his brother's lips brush against his, not close enough to be considered a kiss, but close enough to be considered the prelude to one. Fucked up as it is, the temptation to close the gap, to finish what they started on the peer... it's almost overwhelming.

“Why don't you go out for a run, Raph?” he says instead, “You need to clear your head.”

Raphael narrows his eyes, his gaze darting back and forth across Leonardo's face for a long moment before finally stepping back, “Fine, but I ain't goin' 'cause ya told me to.”

Cocking his head to the side in an almost challenging gesture, Raphael waits a beat before finally jumping the railing and exiting the lair.

Leonardo sighs, and collapses onto the foot of his bed. He drags his katana into his lap, running his finger over the flat side of the blade absent-mindedly.

This... _thing_ with Raphael can't continue. For the safety of their team, of their _family_... it just can't.

–

And like extinguishing a candle, everything changed.

–

“Yo Leo, wanna go for a run?” Raphael calls out, leaning against the west side exit with a bored look on his face.

Leonardo frowns, lowering his book and thumbing the corner, “I... promised sensei I'd meditate with him later,” he replies, “Maybe next time.”

Raphael snorts humourlessly.

“Right, maybe next time,” he grunts, before disappearing down the tunnel.

Leonardo sighs and closes his book.

–

Leonardo stopped going to the violin room...

–

Raphael pauses outside the old grate, fingers hovering over the amp and eyes glued to Leonardo's spare meditation kit. He rests his palm against the mat and pulls a face at the grime he removes. At least Leonardo hasn't come back for it yet, though that's probably because he doesn't want to chance being alone with him again.

He sighs, wipes his palm against his shorts and resumes packing his equipment away. No use dwelling on maybes, it's what got him into this mess to begin with.

–

...and Raphael stopped asking.

–

Raphael scowls, wiping the sweat from his brow. For a room with a giant exhaust fan for a ceiling, the underground chamber's pretty useless when it comes to temperature control. An icicle in winter and an oven in summer. He can't win.

He picks up his violin and starts from the top, eyeing the convoluted mess that dares to call itself 'sheet music' on the wall. _U.N. Owen Was Her_ , the Death Waltz – or as Raphael likes to call it, the dumbest thing he's ever tried to do on a violin. He hasn't felt this frustrated by his lack of extra fingers since he was a kid.

The pace picks up, his fingers blur across the fretboard, and his eyes remain glued to the sheet music, ensuring he hits each and every single note... before the chorus hits and the piece flops harder than Leonardo trying to bake a cake. Damn it, he's trying _not_ to think about him.

“ _Fuck_!” He all but roars, pegging the bow at the wall and watching it ricochet onto the ground, “I can't do this any more!” he rips the sheet music from the wall, balls it up, and chucks it at the bow, “Fuck this piece,” he yanks out the old chord and throws it at the amp, “Fuck this _piece of shit_ violin,” he kicks over the old amp, “Fuck _Leo,_ ” and he pegs the old violin at the wall, _hard_ , “FUCK EVERYTHING!”

The instrument shatters on impact, the sound echoing throughout the chamber.

Raphael staggers backwards until his shell hits the wall, his breathing coming out in short, sharp pants as he stares at the mangled pile of wood, metal and string on the floor. He falls to his knees, buries his head in his hands and, for the first time in three years... Raphael breaks down.

He doesn't go home that night. Or the next.

–

It takes six dials and a voice message for Raphael to finally pick up the phone.

“What?” He grunts, his tone surprisingly flat.

Donatello furrows his brow, sharing a worried look with Leonardo as he shifts the phone into a more comfortable position.

“Are you okay?” He asks, adjusting his glasses, “What happened? Where are you? Are you hurt, injured? Why haven't you come home?”

“Whoa, slow down Einstein,” Raphael interrupts, “One question at a time.”

'What's he saying?' Leonardo mouths, frowning.

Donatello holds up his hand and shakes his head. Leonardo purses his lips, frowning, before he shifts his stance and nods for his brother to continue. Donatello shoots the leader a relieved smile.

“Where are you?” Donatello asks again, biting his lip, “We're all worried about you, you know. It's been three days.”

“Yeah, right,” Raphael replies humourlessly, “I'm safe, that's all ya need to know.”

Donatello frowns, “When are you coming home?”

“Not sure. Probably won't be back for a couple more days yet,” Raphael grunts, sighing, “Look, I gotta go okay? Bump me a text if ya need me.”

“Raph-!”

Raphael disconnects the call.

“Well?” Leonardo prompts after a long moment, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Donatello slumps against his desk, and tosses the phone aside.

“He hung up on me.”

–

Leonardo makes his way down the tunnel with ease, his heart pounding in his chest as he crosses the final threshold of the violin room. Stopping by the old grate, he lets his gaze run along the familiar walls, floors, the overhead exhaust fan and-

Raphael's electric violin lying as naught but a shattered wreck on the cold cement floor.

“ _Where the hell have you been, Raphael?!” Leonardo snaps, blocking Raphael's way into the living room._

“ _If ya gave half a shit, ya might've figured it out by now!” Raphael snaps back, gearing up for a fight, “Outta my way, fearless.”_

Gently, Leonardo lifts the instrument off of the ground, all but caressing it, surveying it's damages. The body's broken into several parts, and one of the strings must have snapped on impact. The only part worth salvaging would be the neck, and even that looks two shakes away from breaking into pieces. It's irreparable.

No wonder Raphael left.

“ _What's that supposed to mean?!” Leonardo shouts._

“ _Figure it out!” Raphael shouts back, “Ya had a week!”_

He swallows heavily and returns the wreckage to the floor, mimicking it's initial position as much as possible before stepping away. Raphael doesn't need to know he was here, it would just make things worse.

–

“I'm headin' out,” Raphael grunts, looking no one in the eye as he vacates the lair, disappearing down the east side tunnel.

Leonardo frowns, dropping his kata and making his way towards the dojo. There's nothing quite like the constant struggle of being hyper-aware of Raphael's every movement, while trying _not_ to be hyper-aware of Raphael's every movement. Ignoring the hothead is almost as exhausting as fighting him.

He enters the dojo with a sigh.

“Ah, Leonardo,” Master Splinter says, breaking Leonardo from his reverie, “Please, sit. I wish to speak with you about something.”

Sliding the door shut, Leonardo frowns, “Of course. What's up?”

Splinter gestures towards the tatami mat, and with a nod Leonardo makes himself comfortable.

His father smiles kindly, and sits adjacent to him.

“I could 'beat around the bush' as they say, but I'll just cut right to it,” he says, smiling, “What is happening between you and Raphael?”

Leonardo stiffens, “What do you mean?”

Splinter chuckles.

“I may be old, my son, but I am far from blind,” he replies, stroking his beard, “You were getting along so well and now you are barely speaking. I merely wish to understand why, so balance can be restored.”

Leonardo smiles slightly, and licks his lips, “Forgive me, father, but I can't tell you the whole story. It's not my secret to share.”

“Of course,” Splinter agrees, “Tell me what you can, my son.”

Leonardo swallows, and nods.

“Okay. To sum it up, Raph has... an unconventional hobby, one he is very skilled at, and until a few months ago we were sharing it. Then we-” _his fingers twitch, gripping tighter to Raphael's as their breathes intermingle, their beaks bump and their eyelids drop,_ “We had an argument which abolished the arrangement.”

Splinter raises an eyebrow, “And you have not yet sought to work this out?”

Leonardo opens his mouth to reply, to retort with some kind, any kind of defence but- he doesn't have one. He closes his mouth and looks away.

“ _You ain't some innocent bystander on this one, Leo, and you know it.”_

Splinter sighs.

“My son, you are very strong, and for that I commend you, but you are also stubborn,” he says, resting his hand against Leonardo's shoulder, “It is something you and Raphael share in common.”

“Then what should I do, sensei?” Leonardo asks, furrowing his brow.

“This... hobby of his, do you enjoy it?”

Leonardo frowns, staring at his father for a long moment before nodding. Splinter smiles.

“Then what are you waiting for? True honour is not in preventing your mistakes, but in rectifying them,” he says, nodding towards the door, “I am sure you don't need an old rat telling you what to do from here.”

Leonardo gapes at his father, mouth parted, before a small smile works it's way onto his face.

“I- Yes, father,” Leonardo replies after a beat, standing with a bow, “Thank you.”

“Yes, yes, now get going. I don't wish to miss another one of my stories.”

–

Donatello watches as Leonardo flits around the lair, looking under every crack and crevice for... money? He raises his brow and adjusts his glasses, turning away from his desk.

“Leo?” He calls out, “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, Donnie,” Leonardo absent-mindedly replies, counting the bills in his hand, “You wouldn't happen to have about... fifty dollars, would you?”

Donatello's second brow joins the first, “Uh, why?”

“It's...” he starts, before biting his lip and leaning against the back of the couch, “It's for Raph. He managed to break something important to him and I wanted to replace it as sort of an... apology. It's a long story.”

“ _Okay_ then,” Donatello mumbles, before clearing his throat and speaking up, “I've got fifty – but you'll owe me a favour if I give it to you, okay?”

“Deal,” Leonardo agrees, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

That was quick. Shrugging to himself, Donatello turns back to his work station and pulls out his safe from the bottom drawer. One six-digit code later and he's handing Leonardo a quarter of his microscope savings. He sighs.

This favour better be worth it.

“Thanks, bro,” Leonardo says, adding the bill to his hand and embracing his younger brother, “I'll make it up to you.”

Donatello pats the leader's shell awkwardly until he lets go, “Yeah, okay, just try not to waste it.”

–

Raphael's phone buzzes, and one glance at the lock screen gives him all the reason he needs to shove it back into his pocket. Leonardo, the _fearless_ leader.

Yeah, right.

Prick.

–

“What do you mean you don't know-? You know what, _nevermind_ ,” Leonardo snaps, pinching the bridge between his eyes, “Did you at least get what I asked for?”

Casey rolls his eyes and lifts up a black violin case, the price tag still hanging from the handle, “Receipt and all, man. I still don't get why ya wanted me to buy you a _violin_ of all things, though. I mean,” he hands over the case with one hand and wriggles the fingers of the other, “Haven't you guys only got two fingers or somethin'? It'd be like playin' chopsticks with actual chopsticks, way too much effort.”

Leonardo rolls his eyes and opens the case to inspect the contents. One wine red acoustic violin, check. A bow, check. A spare set of strings, and a rosin cake? Check and check... Huh, there's even an electric tuner. Useful.

He closes the case and smiles, stepping back onto the fire escape, “Thanks – and keep the change.”

“I was intending to!”

–

The fifth time Leonardo calls, Raphael's two vibrations away from pegging his phone into the river, but instead he does the _responsible_ thing and picks up.

“Raph? Where are you?” Damn it, he shouldn't have picked up.

“What do you want, Leo?” Raphael grunts, folding his arms and leaning against the underside of the Manhattan Bridge, “I ain't in trouble if that's what you're worried about, so conversation over-”

“Wait! Wait, please, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about – though I am relieved to hear it,” Leonardo interrupts almost frantically, “I just- Can we meet up somewhere? We need to talk.”

Raphael barks out a sharp laugh, “Oh, _now_ we need to talk! We've been needin' to talk for the past three months, Leo, and ya ain't been up for the job, so what the fuck makes today so different?”

“I had a talk with Master Splinter and-”

“Of fucking course ya did,” Raphael snarks, grip tightening on the phone, “And what, did daddy tell ya to apologise for not bein' a good little gentle-turtle or somethin'? Gimme a break.”

“I wasn't finished,” Leonardo snaps, “And I'd rather do this in _person_ , if you don't mind-”

“You've had plenty of times to talk to me in person in the last _three months_!” Raphael shouts, punching the brick, “You can shove ya apology up your god-damned ass for all I care! What happened at the docks happened, so get the fuck over it!”

“God damn it Raph, I'm not trying to apologise for what happened at the docks, I'm trying to apologise for how I acted afterwards!” Leonardo shouts back, “I shouldn't have pushed you away, I was – _fuck it_ – I was scared, okay?! Shock of the century, I'm not actually fearless!”

“I know that!” Raphael snaps, scowling, “No one's actually fearless, it's just a fuckin' _nickname_!” he pinches the bridge between his eyes, grinding his teeth, “Ya don't get to lead me on for _months_ just to throw me to the curb when ya get cold feet, _fearless,_ so like I said, you can shove ya apology up-”

“My ass, yeah, I got that,” Leonardo growls, “And I wasn't leading you on. God forbid I actually enjoy spending time you,”

“Yeah, god forbid,” Raphael snarks, “It's not like you spent the whole time flirtin' with me or nothin'.”

“I wasn't flirting with you! You're my brother!” Leonardo shouts, “Which is why I stopped hanging out with you in the first place!”

“What, ya thought I'd jump ya the minute we were alone?” Raphael accuses, scowl deepening, “What kinda turtle do ya think I am?”

“We are not having this conversation over the phone,” Leonardo growls, “Meet me in the violin room in ten minutes.”

“Hold up-!”

“Ten minutes, Raph,” Leonardo hisses, and cuts the connection.

Raphael waits fifteen minutes before leaving, just to spite the bastard.

–

“What took you so long?” Leonardo snaps from his position by the old grate, a black case in his lap, “I've been waiting for over an _hour_.”

“I decided to walk,” Raphael snarks, leaning against the adjacent wall with his brow cocked, “Problem?”

“Next time walk faster,” Leonardo growls, standing up.

Raphael snorts humourlessly, “Because bein' with you is _exactly_ what I want right now. What's in the case?”

Leonardo opens his mouth to retort, closes it and sighs. He extends the case towards his brother.

“It's for you,” he says after a moment, “Consider it an apology.”

Raphael grunts, hesitating for a beat before accepting the case and flipping it open.

His jaw drops, his eyes widen and he nearly drops it. A violin. A brand new acoustic violin. Even the rosin cake hasn't been scratched yet. If he were to slide the bow along the strings right now, it probably wouldn't even make a sound. Wow.

“How'd you...?” He asks, awed as his fingers ghost over the violin's smooth exterior for a moment, before narrowing his eyes, “Why?”

“I-” Leonardo falters, shifting his stance and biting his lip, “About a week ago I stopped by to... to get my stuff when I saw your old violin,” he sighs deeply, glancing towards the wreckage, “I know how much playing means to you, and I figured you'd appreciate the acoustic version so you can play anywhere, no dodgy chords required.”

Raphael sighs, closing the lid gently and placing it aside, “You know it wasn't just an instrument to me, right? It meant somethin'.”

Leonardo smiles sadly.

“I know,” he replies, resting his hand on his brother's shoulder, “I'm not trying to undermine what you went through, or it's value by replacing it. I just don't want you to lose this hobby because of me. I've said it before, and I'll say it again – you're incredibly talented.”

Raphael snorts, a smile reluctantly pushing itself onto his face as his pulls Leonardo in for a tight hug. His brother stiffens, but after a moment he melts into the embrace. They stay like that for a while.

Raphael's hand comes up to caress his brother's face, smiling as Leonardo leans into his palm. His gaze zeroes in on the twinkle in Leonardo's eye, the way his mouth parts and the way his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip.

Raphael swallows.

“I'm gonna do somethin' you're probably not gonna like, so if ya don't want this,” Raphael says, leaning fractionally closer, “I need ya to stop me now,” his fingers lightly trace the bottom half of his scar and he swallows again, “I'm serious bro, stop me now,” their noses bump, and their breaths intermingle – an underground parody of that night on the docks, “Stop me.”

“No,” Leonardo breathes, and closes the remaining distance, mouth connecting with Raphael's in the sweetest of kisses. Raphael's left hand drifts beyond his face, his scar, and travels down to link with Leonardo's own. Leonardo visibly swallows as they disconnect, and Raphael's free hand comes up to rub small, comforting circles onto his brother's neck. They stare into each other's eyes for a long moment, simultaneously scared, elated, _terrified_ , and... excited.

He doesn't know who initiates the next kiss, but one moment they're apart and the next Raphael's pushing Leonardo against the wall and slipping his thigh between his brother's. His tongue darts out, asking his brother's mouth for entrance. He gasps, hands scrabbling to find purchase against his brother's shell as Raphael takes the opportunity to have his first real taste of _Leonardo_.

Green tea, with an undertone of dark chocolate. Go figure.

Someone moans, probably Raphael, as he coaxes Leonardo's tongue to come out and play – and _play_ he does. He grips Raphael's biceps and pushes him back, their tongues battling for dominance as he switches their positions, pressing Raphael against the wall. He slips his thigh between his younger brother's and pushes up. Raphael moans and draws back, panting at the sight of his brother's eyes, dark with lust. Leonardo's hands trail down his sides as he pushes up again, this time prolonging the pressure long enough to draw out a deep churr from the bottom of Raphael's chest. Leonardo visibly swallows, releasing a churr of his own as he does it again, and again, intoxicated by the results.

Raphael arches his head back as far his shell allows, groaning as his brother massages his crotch _just right_. He tangles his fingers into the back of Leonardo's mask and draws him in for a long, passionate kiss.

He pushes back against his brother, taking back control and sliding his palm down Leonardo's plastron to cup the growing bulge in his pants. Leonardo churrs, loudly, and arches his head back as Raphael massages the area, scratching his teeth along his older brother's neck, and biting at the pulse point.

Leonardo moans, loudly.

“Raph,” Leonardo pants, tugging his brother away from his neck and nipping at his mouth, eyes fogged with desire, “We should stop, we need to stop.”

“Do we?” Raphael hums, sucking on Leonardo's lower lip and grinding their lower plastrons together. They both groan as Leonardo thrusts back, hooking a leg around the larger turtle's and drawing him in as close as physically possible.

Raphael runs his hands down the leader's sides, and starts toying with his belt.

“This, _hahh_ , this is wrong, Raph,” Leonardo groans, hands already working to disconnect the straps around Raphael's torso while his brother lowers his katana to the floor, “What would... _ngh_ , sensei think?”

“He'd probably be happy we stopped fightin'. Make love, not war and all that,” Raphael husks as Leonardo strips him of his shoulder pads and various straps, tossing them to the floor.

Leonardo churrs, running his hands up along Raphael's arms and caressing his face, smiling sadly, “I'm serious, Raph. This is wrong on almost every level there is. We need to stop.”

Raphael stares at him for a long moment before sighing and moving to step back. Leonardo draws him back in, keeping them chest to chest. Amused, Raphael settles his hands on his brother hips and cocks his brow.

“Y'know, if ya really wanna stop just say the word, but either ya body's got a mind of it's own or ya ain't being entirely honest with me here,” Raphael teases, lightly nipping at Leonardo's jaw, “I mean yeah, I know it's wrong, ya ain't the only one suckin' face with ya bro right now, but... stupid as it sounds, it just feels right, y'know?” he sighs, eyeing the cement beside his brother's head, “Would sensei disapprove? Yeah, probably, but think of it this way, bro – is it really any more fucked up than a turtle gettin' with a human? 'Cause between you and me, we don't got a lot of options. It's bestiality or incest, and I ain't exactly vying to fuck a dog, if ya know what I mean.”

Leonardo snorts, “You've really thought about this, haven't you?”

“Eh, not exactly like I had anything else to think about,” Raphael replies, smirking, “Though I gotta say, talkin' about our father and fucking dogs has really killed my boner. What about you?”

Leonardo barks out a laugh, idly toying with the edges of Raphael's plastron.

“A bit, yeah,” He agrees, sapphire eyes twinkling, “So what now?”

“Well,” Raphael grunts, stealing a short kiss, “As far as I see it, we've got two options. One, we work on getting our boners back and get it on, or two, I tune that violin and show ya what I've been practising for the last three months. I'll have to go half tempo 'cause, y'know, the song's a bitch to play, but hey, that's music for ya. Your choice.”

Leonardo laughs again as Raphael goes back to nipping at his jaw, earning himself a sharp grunt as he takes Leonardo's adam's apple into his mouth.

“ _Mm_ , we still need to talk about this, so get off,” Leonardo says after a long moment, gently detaching his younger brother and pushing him back, “Let's hear this 'bitch of a song' first.”

Raphael's eyes darken and he steals one more long, intoxicating kiss from him, before finally stepping out of Leonardo's personal space, “Lemme tune her first then I'm all yours.”

–

Raphael standing in the middle of the room with a violin under his chin, Leonardo sitting on his meditation mat surrounded by candles and preparing to relax – this, right here, is where they belong. Leonardo smiles and closes his eyes.

Now if only he could convince Raphael to share his talent with the rest of their family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya enjoyed my story! This was mega fun to write~ :D
> 
> EDIT: BTW, thank you all for the amazing feedback so far <3 It really means a lot that you enjoyed this story! ;U;


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